


Glowing in the Dark

by americanhoney913



Series: Julie and the Himbos [2]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Minor Character Death, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Willie need more love, Willie was a gay teen in the 80s, Willie's backstory, but we knew that already, it's angst guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26952010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: "True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have ever seen.--- Francois de La Rochefoucauld***Part 1: Willie becomes a ghost, loves and loses that love, and meets a ghost that promises him forever. There might be some screaming on top of buildings as well.Part 2: Willie meets a cute ghost, they scream in a museum, and he fucks up majorly.Part 3: Alex, after the Orpheum, goes to find Willie.
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina, Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Caleb Covington & Willie, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Past Alex/Luke Patterson (mentioned), Willie & Original Female Characters
Series: Julie and the Himbos [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959466
Comments: 26
Kudos: 250
Collections: JATP Appreciation Week





	1. Glowing in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> For the first part, I wanted to explore Willie as a ghost before he meets the boys, Alex, and even Caleb.
> 
> The second part came about from some conversations of the JatP discord. I wanted to explore Willie after he's been in Caleb's clutches. His feelings upon meeting Alex and what happens after.
> 
> The third part is Alex after the Orpheum and going to find Willie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I've been bitten by the lonely_  
>  _But when I'm not the only_  
>  _When I'm, when I'm not the only_  
>  _When you feel it, maybe it's sick to say_  
>  _But it helps that you feel the same_  
>  _I know, I know-oh-oh_  
>  _When the lights go out_  
>  \--- Glowing in the Dark, The Girl and the Dreamcatcher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was originally inspired by Glowing in the Dark by The Girl and the Dreamcatcher, but it became *way* more angst than that. Willie might be a side character, but I wanted to explore his background.
> 
> And I remembered Kenny said he wanted to have actors from previous projects come and play characters in JatP. So, Dove and Sofia are the actors who play Chloe and Kat.
> 
> Enjoy the angst.
> 
> TW: descriptions of Willie's death (skating in traffic) and mentions/thoughts of suicide
> 
> Thank you, Nae for editing, even if it isn't your fandom.

Willie remembers skating through Time Square as the sun was setting and the bright billboards lighting up the night. He weaves in and out of the crowd, breathes in the comfort of the acrid smell of the city. Time Square might not be the best place to skate, but Willie’s gotta get from his job as a dishwasher down to his tiny squatter’s corner in the East Village and the subway cost too much to take it. It would be more convenient and shorter to take the subway-- half an hour vs an hour-- but he had to save every cent. The pay uptown is better than staying in the area and the boss seems to give him more money because he’s “easy on the eyes.” Willie hates putting himself in those types of situations, but the money helps. He’s been saving up to help his best friend with his ATZ pills. They were fucking expensive and he was running out of time.

People are shouting at him, jumping out of his way, but he ignores them. He can feel tears prick the corner of his eyes. It’s not enough. Every day, it’s never enough. His boss has a new pretty boy and he’s been relegated to the back, where he puts his head down and works as hard as he can. He’s got calluses and wrinkled fingers and he hates his job, but it’s the only one he’s been able to get.

A big burly man in blue shouts at him and Willie looks up just in time to see headlights barreling straight for him. The loudest horn he’s ever heard blares and the sound rattles around in his brain. He doesn’t have enough time to think about anything else before he’s flying backward. He can feel every single bone breaking and the pieces of his helmet cracking. Pain cracks across his everything, the pain so intense he's surprised he hasn't blacked out, but it disappears just as quickly as it appears.

One second, he’s on the ground dying. The next, he’s staring down at his own body. He doesn’t look like himself anymore; he looks like roadkill. Blood and guts and brains everywhere. His board’s shattered on the ground next to him, pieces of wood embedded in his body and scattered next to him. People are screaming, but it sounds like they’re underwater. He feels like he’s underwater, the pressure weighing down on him.

“Hello?” Willie shouts, but no one turns to him. An ambulance stops next to his body and he watches them clear the area so they can scrape him off the pavement. He turns away and swallows back the bile, but doesn’t feel like he can throw up. He doesn’t feel like he can breathe either. Willie grabs his skateboard and watches with wide eyes as his hands go through the biggest piece of his board. “What the fuck?” He tries again, focusing harder, and a ghostly version of his board seems to peel itself away from the original. This one isn’t smashed to pieces though, but whole as if he’d never been run over.

Willie closes his eyes and feels tears sting at the corner of his eyes, falling down his cheeks. He just wants to be back in his little squatter’s den with Daniel, make shitty canned soup, and make sure his friend takes his meds on time. He never listens to the alarm Willie sets for him.

As soon as he thinks about his shitty living space, he’s there, board in hand and cracked helmet on his head. It's a dim squatter's den right near the Astor Place subway stop, the orange streetlight barely lighting the space. It's a little alleyway that always smelled like piss and drugs and sex but there was a tarp spread between the buildings so there was a little cover from the snow and rain. 

Daniel’s shivering in the corner, wrapped in the threadbare blanket the two of them would share in the colder months. Willie’s hand shakes as he reaches out, calling out his friend's name, but his hand goes through his shoulder instead of landing on it. Daniel shivers and curls further into himself. If Willie’s not there to take care of him, how long can he last?

Willie screams himself hoarse as the hours go by. Night turns to day Willie screams and screams and screams. He sobs and cries and begs and every time he tries to touch Daniel he makes the boy shiver even more. As the sun rises over the skyscrapers and the smog washes the city in a mucky glow, Willie watches Daniel take his last shuddering breath, his hand clutching the empty ATZ bottle in his hand until he can’t hold it anymore and it rolls into the folds of the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” Willie whispers as his hand hovers just over his friends. Daniel doesn’t float up like Willie did, just lets out a last rattling breath and goes still. Disappears forever. 

Willie stays in the squatter’s den for three days before he realizes he can’t just sit there forever. He gets up on shaky legs because, apparently, whatever he’s become can still get pins and needles. Willie kicks his skateboard and jumps on. He glides through people, watches with awe as no one has to jump out of his way or shouts at him. He’s too scared to skate through traffic, just in case his incorporeal form isn’t enough to go through cars and trucks.

It’s a different feeling, being free on the streets of New York. It still smells the same and, when it rains on Willie’s fifth night of his new life, he can still see the heat rising off the asphalt as curls of steam, feel his hair starting to frizz under his cracked helmet. But he can’t _feel_ the chill that usually sets into his bones when it starts getting colder.

The leaves are changing by the time he's settled into his new reality. Three months. He's somewhere between dead and non-existent, doesn't have to breathe or sleep but feels phantom pains sometimes in his head or limbs, can't eat but is sometimes hungry. There's an emptiness inside him that was a small thing before he got run over, but now it's growing.

Willie died as he lived. Alone but for his thoughts and the ragged revolving door group that collected in the squatter's den. Chucked out of his home as soon as his parents found out about his sexuality, tossed out like trash with only his board and his helmet and a tiny backpack with a couple hundred bucks he got from doing yard work. He befriended Daniel train-hopping from his tiny town in the middle of nowhere New Jersey. New York City was full of queer kids like them, their kind, but it seemed everywhere that someone was dying of HIV/AIDS and the government didn't care. Their group of squatters would get smaller and smaller each day.

Willie wants to cry but he doesn't know if he can. He imagines himself standing on top of one of the eagle heads adorning the top of the Chrysler building and rides his skateboard, closes his eyes. He feels that pull in his gut, the pop in his ears, and suddenly he's there.

He can see all of Manhattan or, well, as far as the skyscrapers will allow him to see. Time Square shines brightly like a beacon, reminding him of where he died. And the people. All the people below look like ants going about their days. They don't care about his friends dying every day. They don't care about skater boys getting pancaked in Time Square. They don't realize what's on the other side. Willie hates them all. Hates them for living happy lives, for falling in love the _right_ _way_ , for being happy.

The skater boy opens his mouth and screams as loud as he can, knowing no one will hear him. He's not real, just a shadow of who he used to be. Sure, being able to skateboard wherever he wants is cool and he doesn't get in trouble anymore. But what's life if you're friendless and alone.

He screams every swear he knows, everything he wishes he'd told his parents when they kicked him out, every reassuring word he'd never told Daniel and the countless others he lived with. He screams, tears streaming down his cheeks, his throat hoarse and tearing and he throws his board off the building in anger, getting louder when it returns to his side in a poof.

"Are you done?"

Willie’s mouth shuts with a click as he spins around to find a lanky blonde girl, about his age, leaning against the wall behind the eagle head. He's so shocked she's talking to him that he wobbles and almost falls. "Whoa, hey." The woman races forward but doesn’t touch him, her hands hovering over his arms. "You okay?" She’s wearing tight jeans ripped at the knees and a lace top, crocheted with big spaces between each stitch, enough to show off her neon purple bra underneath. There are feathers braided into her hair and big ones hanging from her earlobes.

"Yeah," Willie responds but it hurts. His throat feels dry and raw and it's the first thing he's felt in months, weeks, days. It hurts to swallow and breathe, but it's better than the emptiness of before. "You… you can see me?"

"And hear you." The blonde smiles at him and it's one of fond exasperation. "Actually, every ghost in Midtown could probably hear you."

"Ghost?"

She nods and reaches up to fix his helmet, still not touching him. It reminds him of what his mom used to do before she stood by and let his dad kick him to the curb. Fix his clothes and his hair, always complaining about the length.

"We're ghosts.” She wiggles her fingers at him and smiles. “Specter. Phantom. Wraith. Apparition.” She coughs. “Sorry. Read the dictionary back in the 50s. It was a _really_ boring time. Take your pick on the name. We can’t be seen by lifers. Well, sometimes we can, but that’s rare and takes a lot of energy. Even shouting at them takes energy and they’ll barely hear it as a whisper.”

“So why am I a ghost? Why didn’t my friend Daniel become a ghost?”

The blonde shrugs her shoulders and traces a bright pink scar that runs along her neck like a slash mark. It seems to be an unconscious movement. Willie might not have anyone, but he knows how to read people. His mom always told him he could be a psychologist when he grew up, before he left. Daniel was always picking at his cuticles or bit his nails when he was anxious; his dad always got a little red in the cheeks before he’d get angry, especially if he’d had a few beers.

“Some people cross over right after they die. Those that need it the most.”

“So I didn’t need to cross over?” He throws up his hands. “Who the hell gets to pick?”

“Those that are sick or dying usually cross right over.” Her shoulders slump. “I thought I would see my brother after he died from a bayonet shot, but he died in the hospital from his wounds three days after losing a leg and an arm. He crossed right over.”

“So why are we stuck here?”

“Unfinished business. But it’s never a straight answer.” She traces the line on her neck again. “I don’t know what mine is. Some ghosts never find out.”

“How long have you been a ghost?”

She wobbles her hand up and down and bites her lip. “A little over 200 years?” Willie’s eyes go wide and she giggles. “Yeah, it’s been a long time.”

“When?”

“During the Rev War.” She gestures to the line on her neck. “Slit throat for carrying spy papers across lines.” She shrugs. “At least it wasn’t hanging or firing squad.” She smiles kindly at him. “I’m Chloe, by the way. Chloe Merriman.”

“Willie. I, uh, renounced my last name when my family kicked me out.”

He’s waiting for the moment when his hand goes through Chloe’s. He hasn’t been able to touch anything but his board since he died. But his eyes go wide when she bypasses his hand and pulls him into a fierce hug. Chloe feels warm against him, like he’s alive again. She cups the back of his head, tanging her fingers in his hair, and strokes his back with the other. Willie hasn’t been hugged like this, cared for, since he was around ten. His breaths shudders in his chest and he lets out a sob as he buries his face in Chloe’s neck.

Willie doesn’t know Chloe and Chloe doesn’t know him, but there’s some kind of connection that sparks between them. It feels like coming home in a way he’s never actually felt. That black hole settles inside his chest, shrinks just a little bit, like a wounded animal finally realizing that it’s going to get help.

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft and musical in his ear, “you’re okay now. You’re safe.”

Willie cries until he has no more tears.

* * *

Once he sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve, Chloe gives him a soft smile and takes his hand, keeps him close to her side. It’s like she knows he’s been touch-starved since he died. “We’re gonna poof out, okay?” Chloe tells him in a gentle voice. “Just imagine holding my hand the whole time.” He nods and closes his eyes, focuses on her warm hand in his. There’s the tug in his gut and he opens his eyes to find himself looking across a pond at a beautiful castle. The oranges and reds and yellows from the turning leaves brighten up the area. Willie takes a deep breath and he can almost smell fall. That black hole in his stomach closes just a little bit and he watches with a smile as Chloe dances across a pile of leaves, kicking them up.

Willie realizes that, if he hadn’t been dead and Chloe hadn’t found him, he might have jumped. Losing Daniel, the last thing holding him here, might have been the last straw. But Chloe looks so happy, even after being so brutally killed and then living with it for over 200 years, that he realizes that maybe being a ghost isn’t so bad. He likes skating around and not getting in trouble; he has yet to try skating inside, but he wants to try the Museum of Natural History.

“Come on!” Chloe grabs his hand and makes him dance with her. He can’t help but smile and laugh, whooping with that sliver of joy that’s slowly creeping back in. Chloe swings his arms and spins him around and dips him until his hair brushes the leaves. Her green eyes sparkle in the noon sunlight and he realizes that he was on that roof all night, screaming. When Chloe lets him go, she spins through a few people and throws her hands up, laughing.

How can a ghost have so much life, Willie doesn’t understand, but he wants to be like Chloe.

“There you are!” a raspy voice shouts and Willie turns to find a girl with black hair running towards them. She must mean someone behind them and Willie waits for her to pass through Chloe before they can move on. Instead, the girl barrels into the blonde and knocks her to the ground. They fall, giggling, and Willie’s heart aches. He wants what they have, but he’s dead now, so he doesn’t think it’ll ever happen to him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Chloe sits up and the other girl falls to the side, laying with her back in the leaves. They crinkle under her weight, even though she’s incorporeal. “Sorry,” Chloe laughs. She holds out her hand and Willie sits down next to her, smiling shyly.

“Oh, uh, hi.” The black-haired girl gives him a wide dazzling smile, one he returns with a shy one of his own.

“Kat, this is Willie.”

“Nice to meet you.” Kat shakes his hand and it’s like the same buzzing connection he got with Chloe. Familial, familiar. “Were you the one—?”

“Screaming on top of the Chrysler building?” Chloe nods. “Yep, that was him.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you stopped.” She rubs her own throat and Willie’s closer now so he can see the faded burn marks crawling up her arm, curling around her neck like a hand. There’s some pink burns on her cheek, the scars spidering out from her chin and up, one line touching the edge of her mouth. “It sounded painful.” He nods.

“Well, I’m glad Chloe found you and not some jerk.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and Willie notices more pink scars on the back of her neck leading into her cropped blue sweatshirt. She shoves her hands into the pocket. “So, what’re you gonna do now that you’re a ghost?”

“Wander around until I disappear?” he asks. “What else am I supposed to do?”

Chloe scoffs. “Live the life you never got to live! Go all the places you never got to go. Find a new hobby. It gets boring if you just wander around.” She kicks at Willie’s board and one of the wheels begins to spin. “Kat’s become a history nerd and I think I’ve learned at least four languages and read the dictionary at least three times.”

“For example,” Kat points to the castle across the pond, “Belvedere Castle. 1869. Completed just a few years after I died. Built on the highest point in the park.”

“That’s actually pretty cool.” Willie smiles. Maybe being dead isn’t so bad after all.

* * *

Chloe and Kat are drifters, but Willie finds them when he wants to. They have a central base in some rundown factory near the pier, but Willie knows where to find them if they're not there. Chloe likes to sit on top of random apartments but, ever since that first brush of their hands, it’s been easy to find her. Kat’s off to London to watch the opening of The Phantom of the Opera. When she’s not obsessing over history, she’s poofing into plays and musicals and shows. Sometimes she drags Willie with her, to the ones he’ll enjoy and he likes that he’s included. Kat and Chloe are his only ghost friends and they’ve become like siblings to him. He goes to them when he’s anxious or when he just needs to be around someone because he feels like he’s floating away. They’re his tether. They’ve taught him to be a ghost, how his new reality works.

“Hey,” Willie calls as he poofs onto the roof next to Chloe. She’s sitting in a lounge chair left out by a lifer, her hands wrapped around an empty cup. They can’t drink or eat, but it’s the idea of it that Chloe likes.

He's learned that ghosts all have some sort of afterlife power and they're always different. Chloe can pick something up and, like with his board, have a ghostly echo in her hand. Kat can project her voice so that lifers can hear her, easier than other ghosts would. Willie's still testing himself out, stretching his ghost muscles, but he's pretty good with tech stuff. He can make police sirens go off if he points at a car and thinks about them. It's pretty cool.

Willie settles down on the ground by Chloe's knee and she smiles at him. She touches his shoulder, brushes her hand through his hair, and he knows it’s one of those nights.

Willie knows how it feels, to be untethered. To feel like he’s going to fade into smoke at any moment. Chloe sighs and the cup crumples in her hand. She’s much better than him at making contact with things, like the cup, but he’s getting better. He was able to hold onto a railing the other day during one of his grabs.

“Everything okay?” he asks her as he puts his hand on her knee. Chloe’s fingers tighten in his hair before she sighs and lets go.

“Sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before I see my brother again,” she mumbles and he almost misses it to the sounds of the city. She sniffles and wipes a tear from her cheek. He squeezes her knee and sighs when she puts her hands back in his hair. Chloe is more tactile than Kat and she's always braiding and unbraiding his hair. It gives her something to do with her hands instead of tracing the scar on her neck, especially when she's anxious. Everyone has their tics, even ghosts. Especially ghosts.

"What was he like?" Willie asks. Sometimes talking about Daniel helps on his bad days, so he hopes maybe it's the same for Chloe.

"He wasn't my brother by birth," she says, voice a little shaky, "and we didn't grow up together. But we found each other during the war." She tugs at Willie's hair, trying to make the braid tight and he puts his hand on her ankle. "He was a scrawny kid, maybe about 15, but he wanted to change the world." He can hear the smile in her voice, the watery chuckle. "He signed up for the army with counterfeit papers. Was so proud when he showed off his uniform." She shudders. "I died before he did, but I followed him everywhere. He couldn't see me, but I think he knew I was there. I tried to stop the canon from hitting him, but it went right through me."

Willie says nothing, but he squeezes a little harder and Chloe lets his hair go. He grabs her wrist, grabs a hair tie off of it, and pulls his hair back from his face. “Come on,” Willie says as he tugs at Chloe’s hand. When she stands up with him, he poofs them to the tallest tower in Belvedere Castle that overlooks Central Park, where he first met Kat.

‘The city that never sleeps’ lives up to its name. Willie can see people running through the park, lovers walking together, children shrieking in the last rays of sunlight. Chloe leans against the railing, knocking her shoulder against his. She smiles up at him and leans her head on his shoulder. Her head barely reaches his shoulder, but she wraps her arm around his; he can feel her body move as she breathes and it’s comforting. Ghosts don’t need to breathe, but they do. Willie and Kat and Chloe do.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” Willie speaks after a few moments of silence, “for saving me.”

“You were going to wake the crossed-over.” She rolls her eyes, but presses closer, her arm sliding around his waist. “But I’m glad I found you.” Her nails scratch against the back. “I’m glad we found each other.”

* * *

Willie wanders the world for the next decade and a half. He skateboards through Buckingham Palace and the White House and other famous places. He goes to all the cool concerts he’s never been able to afford and even gets on stage with those rockstars.

He meets Kat and Chloe every few months in New York City. It's their place, their city. They sit on rooftops and watch the sunrise over the Hudson or catch a show from the best spot in the Broadway theater. He skates across the stage during a performance at the Sydney Opera house and screams at ghost hunters in random haunted houses until they can hear him weakly trying to tell them to fuck off. He tries to go to some lesser-known bands on the Hollywood strip. There’s one band he’s been on the cusp of following, some _Sunset Swerve_ , but he’s never been able to make their shows due to timing. And then he hears from a ghost who used to be a roadie-- death by falling pyrotechnic fixture-- that three of the band members died suddenly right before their big night. So Willie goes to other concerts and tries not to think about it. 

He’s getting used to the ghost thing. He can pick things up if he concentrates. He can’t be seen, but he can be heard if he screams loud enough and puts enough intent behind his words. He likes his new afterlife but, besides Kat and Chloe, he’s lonely. They have each other and he’s met a few friends here and there, but those ghosts have moved on and crossed over.

“Happy birthday Wil!” Kat asks as she poofs next to him, wrapping him in a big hug. He can feel her coming before she even appears and Willie thinks it because of the weird connection he forged with them when he first met them. He doesn’t understand it, but he’s glad he doesn’t jump when they pop up. 

He turns around and hugs her back, chuckling. She’s wearing ripped skinny jeans and a crop top with Snow White on it, her hair pulled back into a fishtail braid. Kat’s beaming from ear to ear and almost vibrating with excitement.

“You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, yep. Totally fine.” She grabs his hand and, before he can comment on her weird behavior, they’re standing on the edge of the Santa Monica pier. It’s nighttime and all the ghosts have come out to mingle among the lifers still wandering around. Chloe waves at them from the end of the Ferris Wheel line. She’s decked out in her typical 90s leather pants and a shirt with enough rips in it to show off her midriff and one whole shoulder is missing. A heart stabbed with a dagger sits in the middle, the only not ripped part. “Again, happy birthday!”

"I love you, but please stop screaming," Willie says with a chuckle. He hugs Chloe when they make it to her. She's got a little bit of purple in her hair, like a paintbrush with just the edges dipped. He likes it. Ghost hair doesn't grow like lifers' hair does, but it does grow… with effort. Kat told him about how half her hair was scorched off in the blast that killed her and gave her the scars painting half her body, but now it's lush and full and she's always pulling on the slight curl.

"We thought we'd do something fun," Chloe tells him. She turns back to the long line for the Ferris Wheel. "And what's more fun than the Santa Monica Pier at night?"

Kat rolls her eyes and tosses her braid over her shoulder. "I said going to see the newest musical on Broadway, but _nooooo_."

"There's nothing good playing until later," Chloe retorts, but kisses Kat's cheek when she continues to pout. Willie feels something he hasn't in a while, that black holes from back when he first died, as he watches Kat melt into Chloe's arms. He _wants_ that. What they have. He never really had any relationships beyond friendly or even familial. The closest he got was huddling with Daniel under their threadbare blanket, but never beyond that. Willie's had plenty of crushes, both in life and in death, but he's too scared. What if they finish their unfinished business and leave him behind? Willie's not sure he even wants to cross over.

"Hey." Chloe knocks her shoulder against his, giving him a knowing look. "Focus on the good, remember?" He nods at her and takes her hand, twines their fingers together.

They race through the lifers and get onto one of the empty gondolas, Kat locking and holding the door before the carnie lifer can put anyone in with them.

The bright lights wash Chloe and Kat in reds and blues and greens and purples and yellows as they rise to the top. "So why not go to the arcade?"

Chloe takes a deep breath. "We wanted to check in. It's been fifteen years since your death."

"And some ghosts are nosy," Kat adds.

Chloe squeezes her leg with one hand and grabs Willie's with her other. She smiles at him. "Fifteen years is a long time to be dead."

"But you've been dead for over 200 years!"

"And I've been dealing with it for that long. I've accepted that I'm dead, I'm a ghost, and I might never cross over to see my brother." She sighs, bringing Willie's hand up under her chin. "But we've had time to process. You've had 15 years."

"I'm fine, Chloe," he tells her as he pinches her chin. She glares at him and drops his hand, but Kat bursts into giggles. He was never tactile with girls before he met the two of them. "Really." He chuckles. "I've been able to sneak into every art museum and skate until I'm bored, go see all the shows I could never afford, and I got to meet you guys."

Kat brushes under her eye and sniffles. "You're so adorable," she says as she throws her arms around him, sitting in his lap. The Ferris Wheel gondola rocks with the movement even though they're incorporeal, but he can hear lifers whispering above him that it's just the wind.

"I'm not adorable; I'm a badass dude who likes to break into art museums to scream and skate."

"And you're still adorable."

"I hate you both."

"No, you don't," Chloe cuts in, "you love us."

He nods and dips his head, tugs at the edges of his ponytail. "Yeah," he agrees with a raspy voice, "I kinda do."

Chloe slides into his other side and Kat slides off him and to his other side. He slings his arms over the edge of the gondola, fingers playing with the end of Kat’s hair and pulling nervously at one of the rips in Chloe’s shirt. He feels like they’re about to drop something big on him. Maybe they don’t want to hang out anymore? Maybe he’s getting in the way of their lovely afterlife together? His anxiety runs rampant until Chloe settles her hand on his jumping knee.

“Thank you,” she says. He looks down at her, blinking owlishly. She reaches up to tuck a falling piece of hair behind his ear, resting her hand on his cheek. Willie lifts his arm from around her shoulder and holds the hand there. Kat puts her hand on his leg.

“For what?” His voice sounds so soft under the sounds of the carnival.

“My brother crossed over and I never got to see him grow up. Grow into himself as a person. Died too young.” She smiles at him, her green eyes filled with unshed tears and over 200 years of love. “But I got to watch you grow.” Kat nods next to her. 

Willie bites his lip and doesn’t know what to say, except, “I can’t grow up. I’m a ghost. We don’t get older.”

“Just because you’re not growing physically, doesn’t mean you stop,” Kat tells him. “Chloe and I have both grown and changed since we died. You’ve done the same, Wil.”

“I… thanks, I guess?” He’s so confused. 

“We just,” Chloe grabs Kat’s hand over his lap, “we know that you’re going to be amazing, even in death.”

“Why does this feel like goodbye?”

Chloe holds out her hand to him and he can see it glowing slightly, golden in the carnival lights. Kat gives him a watery smile and he can see the end of her braid has the same glow as Chloe’s hands. “Because it is.”

“What? No!” Willie grabs at Chloe’s hand. Small orbs of glowing gold light lift off of her body and float into the air. Kat’s body flickers beside her. “You can’t leave! Please, don’t leave me!”

“We didn’t realize it at first,” Kat tells him, “but _you_ were our unfinished business.”

“What?” He’s trying to breathe, but it’s hard. “How?”

“I don’t know.” Chloe cups his cheek but her hand can barely touch him. “But thank you.”

“Please, don’t leave me.” Tears slip down his cheeks as he tries to hold onto her, but eventually, his hands pass right through her. It’s like when a lifer passes through a ghost. Kat wraps her arm around Willie, but it feels like cold air against his skin. She’s fading faster than Chloe and she gives Willie a ghost of a kiss on the cheek before she disappears completely in the last few golden orbs. 

“Don’t give up, Wil,” Chloe tells him, her voice sounding more and more wisp-like, her hand on his cheek feeling like nothing but a cool breeze. “Be brave.”

“Thank you,” Willie chokes on a sob, “for everything.”

Willie loses his best friends, his family, on the fifteenth afterlife birthday of his afterlife.

* * *

New York City doesn’t feel the same without Chloe and Kat. He tries going back, but haunting Grand Central doesn’t feel the same. He tries screaming in the MOMA, but the echo sounds so much like Kat trying to sing opera that he breaks down in the statue garden. He poofs away and vows to never return to the city that gave him a family again after his death.

Hollywood feels different. There’s an electricity to the air that makes his ghost senses tingle. Chloe always talked about how ghosts can feel it in the air and use it to become stronger. Smog rises from the streets after it rains, which is rare, and the people who come to this city all want to be something. It’s New York, but it’s not, and that’s enough for Willie.

He likes skating down Sunset Boulevard and Melrose Ave, but his favorite place is to fly down Broadway on his board. There’s no memories here of trying on fancy clothes with Kat and seeing concerts with Chloe, but the name reminds him of a better time. It’s been nine years since he lost his friends and wandering is the only thing he can do.

Chloe told him to be brave, but he doesn’t know how to be without them. He’s alone again and that darkness feels like it’s coming back. He wanders the streets during the night, hands in his pockets, waiting for something to happen. During the day, he skateboards. There’s a mansion in the hills of Hollywood where this super young dude hangs out-- he’s some kind of famous but his music is horrible-- and Willie likes to skateboard in his empty pool. There are days when he sits on the roof of LAX and watches the planes fly overhead, feeling like he’s fading away into nothing. A ghost of a ghost of himself.

It’s still not enough.

One night, he’s skating backs and forth past the Orpheum, deciding whether he should go in or not. There’s a band playing, a decent one just getting started, but he still misses his friends and isn’t in the mood for anything. He promises himself one more pass before he gives up and goes back to his rooftop haven. 

When something weird and amazing happens.

He bumps into someone. Sure, he’s seen other ghosts-- there are a few he meets up with at concerts just to keep himself from fading-- but this is different. He stares behind him and finds a man looking back at him. He’s attractive for an older ghost, with a purple velvet cape, a top hat, and eyes bluer than blue. And he’s looking right at Willie.

The man even tips his top hat at Willie and gives him a smirk. Willie doesn’t like older men like that, but the smirk turns into an inviting smile. He doesn’t feel what he felt with Chloe and then Kat, but there’s something drawing him in. The man sweeps his cape as he spins around to continue walking and something flutters to the ground.

“Hey!” Willie calls out as he wanders over to pick it up. “Sir, you dropped this.” But, when he looks up, the man is gone.

Willie huffs and looks down at the card in his hand. It’s iridescent and shiny. On one side, there’s a name. _Hollywood Ghost Club_ is embossed in shiny gold lettering, written in cursive. When he flips the card over, he sees _Where the party never dies_ and an address. It’s a rundown castle on the edge of Hollywood’s heyday district. All the older mansions and those from back when Hollywood was full of starlets and mobsters.

He tucks his skateboard under his arm and poofs over to the address. Yep, crumbling building with one turret missing and half the building covered in ivy. Yet he can hear music coming from inside, can see lights on in the highest tower.

The man from before is standing at the entrance when Willie poofs himself inside. He holds out a hand and Willie shakes it.

“Welcome,” the man says in a smooth voice, “to the Hollywood Ghost Club. I’m Caleb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it. I want more about Willie's backstory, more than just one line about how he died in traffic. As was pointed out to me by a friend on discord, I apparently got it right when I had the HC that Willie died in the 80s. We don't know where he's from, but I wanted him to be from somewhere other than Hollywood but he made his way to the show's location.
> 
> I wanted Willie to have time being a ghost before he met Caleb. Also to give him some friends because he needs them... even if they're no longer around.
> 
> Willie goes through the low of dying, the high of being with his friends, and then the low that leads him to Caleb and being trapped at the Ghost Club.


	2. I Might Only have One Match (But I Can Make an Explosion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Like a small boat_  
>  _On the ocean_  
>  _Sending big waves_  
>  _Into motion_  
>  _Like how a single word_  
>  _Can make a heart open_  
>  \--- Fight Song, Rachel Platten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Willie after he's been a part of Caleb's club for a while. He meets Alex and suddenly everything changes.
> 
> This explores Willie's budding relationship with Alex and then dealing with the fact that he feels that it's his fault the boys are going to either die or be trapped like him.
> 
> Dialogue lifted directly from the show.

Whenever Caleb lets him off his leash, Willie likes to skate around Hollywood. He can’t leave California without permission. The only thing it’s good for is keeping him from going to New York City. He’s felt the pull of the city for a while now, but he also doesn’t want to go back because that’s where his heart is. There’s still the black hole that briefly filled up for the fifteen years he found a family with Kat and Chloe, only to lose himself to despair once they crossed over.

It’s just a regular day of skating through lifers and watching stars try to be inconspicuous as they hurry to wherever they’re going. He passes a pair of Ghostbusters, Marylin Monroe, and people taking selfies with “statues.” He kicks and tilts his body to speed up, ducking to pass through a blonde boy who seems to be wandering aimlessly, which is unusual because everyone comes to the Strip for some reason or another.

What he’s not expecting is to crash into cute blonde and bowl him over in a show of green sparks where they collide. They fall to the ground, Willie on his back, the blonde laid out on his stomach next to him. Willie pushes himself up and grabs his board as the other boy rubs his head and gets up. 

“Oh, dude, you dinged my board,” Willie grumbles as he flicks one of the wheels. He traces the sketch on the bottom, a dragon that Chloe drew one day when she was bored. Unlike Kat and her love for princesses like Snow White and Aurora, Chloe enjoyed the more villainous types of characters. Maleficent and the Evil Queen… anyone with magic that used it for evil. His friends had always been weird. So Chloe drew a dragon breathing fire, a Welsh-looking dragon that was on one of the shields at the Natural History Museum. One of the wings is missing a sliver. Cute blonde must have knocked it when Willie knocked into him.

“I dinged your board?” he says as he gestures almost angrily with his hand. “Dude, you ran me over. You’re lucky I didn’t…” He trails off and his eyes go wide. “Y-Y-You… you… you ran me over.” He says it like he’s almost shocked. Cute blonde seems to use his hands and he sounds anxious. “You’re a ghost?”

Blondie knows about ghosts, but he seems so unsure of himself. Willie remembers that he himself was so angry when he died, but this boy seems more anxious and scared. Chloe told him once that all ghosts feel different upon learning of their death. She herself felt lost and Kat told him once she felt like her whole world was ending. Lifers and ghosts always deal with change in different ways. Willie was angry. This guy looks like a ball of nerves.

“Mm, yeah.” Willie chuckles as he unclips his helmet. He may be a ghost, but helmet hair still sucks. “Ever since I learned the hard way that…” He also _might_ be trying to show off a little bit in front of this adorable ghost. So he does this hair flip that used to make Daniel roll his eyes and Chloe knock her shoulder against his and call him a flirt while Kat pretended to fan herself. This guy, however, seems to freeze and his jaw drops. It makes Willie puff up his chest just a little bit, but no one needs to know that. “… Skating in traffic was bad.”

He runs his hand through his hair and tries not to notice the other boy’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. Blondie still doesn’t speak. Maybe the hair flip was too much? “Hey, sorry I, uh, smashed into you,” he says when Blondie doesn’t say anything. “I thought you were a lifer, and I’d just pass right through you.”

“Uh, a lifer?”

“Yeah, that’s, uh… That’s what we call people who are living.” He chuckles. Was this what he was like with Chloe and Kat? Asking them so many questions and wanting to know everything. “You’re new to this whole ghost thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Blondie chuckles and begins to wring the strap of his bum bag until his knuckles are white. “Is that obvious?”

Willie looks up and clicks his tongue. “Totally,” he says with a chuckle.

There’s a moment of silence between them, Blondie still anxiously trying to find something to do with his hands, before they share a laugh and something in Willie’s black hole heart flutters. There’s something inside him that feels the same as it did when Chloe touched him for the first time, his first connection in the afterlife. Except that felt familial. His connection to Caleb is forced and uncomfortable and he hates it whenever he feels the pull of Caleb calling him back to the club or wherever he happens to be at the time. This… this feels different. Warmer. 

“Hey, I’m, uh… I’m Willie.”

“Oh, uh, Alex.” Blondie-- Alex-- reaches out and shakes his hand. Ghosts usually don’t feel cold to other ghosts as they do to lifers, but everything’s more of a clammy medium. Alex’s hand feels warm in his, like he has a pulse. Like they both do.

There’s another moment of awkward silence and Alex nervously rubs his hands on his jeans. If Willie’s clocked him right, the guy’s a ball of nerves held together with wet string and a prayer. He doesn’t know what to say, so he just fiddles with his board, tapping his fingers rhythmically against it.

Eventually, one of them has to talk and Willie takes the initiative. “So, uh, what brings you to Hollywood, man?” He looks behind him and back to Alex. He remembers hopping from big city to big city and going everywhere he could never afford. Maybe this kid’s doing the same thing. “You, uh, sightseeing? Picture with that, uh,” he clicks his tongue again and thumbs behind him, “Marylin girl?” He does what Kat called one of his patented eyebrow wiggles. Even if he thinks Alex is cute, the guy might be straight as an arrow. Don’t want to make a potential new friend uncomfortable.

“Uh…” Alex chuckles nervously, “yeah, actually, I was having a minor afterlife crisis.” Alex is gesturing with his hands again, something Willie remembers reading in his psych class before he died. Something anxious or nervous people do, a tic they have to try to alleviate some of the stress. “So, you know, just clearing my head. Until you tried to crack it open.”

Well, this Alex character is officially adorable and Willie hopes he’s not as straight as a stiff arrow and more like a bendy one. Metaphors aren’t Willie’s strong suit and he knows that, but this blonde and his smile are really messing with him. He chuckles and shakes his head. “I did pancake you, huh?”

Alex huffs and tries to smile but Willie can see his fingers moving as if they want to fiddle with something but the blonde’s trying to control himself. Like fidgeting was something discouraged and now he struggles when he needs an outlet. Damn, Willie’s mom might have been a bitch, but she knew what she was talking about when she told him he could read people. Sometimes he’d go with Chloe to random places and just read people for her, spin stories about their lives just by watching them. When Alex notices him looking, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry,” Willie eventually says. Alex doesn’t seem to be in the mood for talking, but is still having his afterlife crisis and trying not to fidget. Willie doesn’t want to stress him out more, make like his problems are a joke, so he continues, trying to put out some kind of comforting vibe. “Um, so, minor afterlife crisis?”

Alex lets out a breath and his body seems to tense and relax the tiniest bit. “Yeah, I just… I just keep freaking out about everything, you know? Shouldn’t we be in heaven or something?”

Oh, so there’s a _we_ in the equation. “Who’s 'we?'”

“Oh, uh, me and my bandmates. We all died.”

“Right.” Willie kind of hopes his bandmates don’t have any claim to this cute blonde, but he’s not going to say anything. He’ll step back and help with his crisis and, hopefully, whatever connection he has with Alex will grow to be the same as it was with Chloe and Kat… even though he knows it’s not going to be like that for him.

“Now, that’s tragic, man. You guys had some kind of accident, or…”

“Yeah.” Alex’s voice gets a little higher, like he’s lying. “Yeah, you could… you could say that.” He pauses for a second, licks his lips, and finally tells Willie what he was hiding behind that high pitch. “We ate some bad hot dogs.”

“Whoa, no way.”

“Yeah.”

“Weirdly, that is what happened to Mozart.” Sometimes making jokes helps make people more comfortable and Alex seemed to have rewound his little ball of nerves during his admission of how he and his friends died. So, Willie cracks a joke.

“Wow. That’s actually comforting. Thank you.” His hair flops in his eyes and Willie’s fingers itch to push it back so he can see those pretty blue-green eyes. Willie chuckles and brushes his hair behind his ear because he can’t stop himself from wanting to reach for Alex. Alex fiddles with his fingers for a moment before he gathers enough courage to say, “Hey, do you mind if I ask you a couple more questions?”

“That’s kind of your thing, isn’t it?” Willie remembers all the questions he asked Chloe and Kat once he got through his angry, screaming phase. He needed those questions answered to keep his mind off of Daniel and the passing of time and the tiny part of him that wondered if his parents missed him or even cared that he died. Through them, he learned to experience his afterlife and enjoy it while keeping himself grounded and in the moment. Maybe he can help Alex. Give back a little bit of what he got when he was first learning the incorporeal ropes.

“Alright.” But he’s not going to make it easy. Alex needs to let off a little steam because he looks like he’s about to rub his palms raw on his jeans. And Willie wants to get just a little more skate time before Caleb tugs at his leash. “You just gotta keep up.” He kicks off the ground and begins to skate away as he puts on his helmet. Willie doesn’t _need_ his helmet, but Chloe screaming at him to wear one has carried over even though she’s gone and totally not his mother. Even though she liked to act like a mix between his mother and his big sister. His shorter big sister. He shakes his head as he clicks his helmet on and kicks again to gain speed.

“Hey, um… wait up!” He can hear Alex shouting behind him and he chuckles as he moves through a few of the lifers. He looks over his shoulder to see Alex dodging lifers left and right, like he doesn’t feel comfortable walking through other people. Willie knows that feeling, but he got over it pretty quickly. As long as they don’t linger too long, one can feel basic surface emotions and thoughts. If you linger too long, as Caleb’s told him, you could end up with an attachment to that person. Willie doesn’t want to find out. Alex might just not know that but he’s dodging people anyway.

* * *

Alex finally gives up on catching him, using up his energy to dodge people and chase him at the same time. He sits down on the top edge of the bench back, not on the bench like a normal person. They talk for what feels like hours, Alex asking question after question and Willie answering as best he can.

“I mean, it’s just so random, you know,” Alex says as he waves his hands, “that we disappear for 25 years, and then Julie plays our CD, and then bam!” He smacks his palm against the back of his hand to emphasize the sound. “We’re back.”

“It’s kind of funny, right?” Willie chuckles. “You thought when you died you’d get all these answers, and now you have more questions.”

“Hilarious.”

Willie chuckles. There’s that dry humor he’s starting to really like. It kind of reminds him of Chloe at times. He looks at Alex and sees Chloe in his smile or in the way he flicks his hair. It’s the strangest thing. Willie remembers their faces well, even if it’s been years. So seeing Chloe in Alex… it’s weird. Chloe never told him about having any children or siblings… Willie shakes his head and watches Alex jump when he looks over to see a walk-around dog sit down on the bench and sighs heavily. 

“Why did he…?” Alex trails off when the dog takes off his helmet to reveal a guy. He nods to himself and shakes his head. Willie joins him as they snicker, watching the man shove his paw-gloves into his dog head and takes out a sandwich.

Willie draws Alex back to him by saying, “So, who’s this, um… Julie?”

Alex’s smile gets brighter and he bobs his head, fiddling with the zipper on his bum bag. “Oh, she’s the girl that discovered us. Did I mention she can _see_ us?” He stresses this by cutting his hand through the air, putting emphasis on the fact that Julie can see them. His hands move faster too, becoming a little more erratic as his anxiety seems to ramp up. Willie wants to reach out and soothe him, but Alex doesn’t know him that well and spilling his guts to a stranger seems to be the maximum. “You understand my whole freaking out?”

“A lifer can see you?” Willie asks in shock. The only person he knows that can be seen by lifers or make other ghosts visible is Caleb and he’s never actually shared his secret with anyone. Caleb keeps that trick close to the chest, just like he does with all his other magic. 

“Yeah, man.” He shrugs. “No, it gets crazier, alright? This morning, we’re playing music with her, we become visible to her entire school.”

“Whoa,” Willie blinks, “I’ve never heard of that happening before. Maybe this Julie’s connected to your unfinished business.”

“Mh-hmm. Yes. Totally.” Alex nods and smiles at him and Willie feels the sarcasm coming before it comes out of the blonde’s mouth. “I would completely agree if I had _any clue_ what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Um… unfinished business. It’s why people become ghosts when they die. There’s still something they need to accomplish, and once they complete it,” Willie clicks his tongue, “they can cross over.”

“Ok, so how do we finish out what our unfinished business is?”

“I don’t know. You know, some ghosts never do.” He pauses, trying not to think about how he was Chloe and Kat’s unfinished business. Without him, they could have lived long happy afterlives. They’re gone because of him. Alex’s hand reaches out between them before he thinks better of it and pulls his hand back to rest on his bum bag. Now’s not the time to wallow because this cute boy needs his help or, at least, a sounding board. “I still haven’t. But, you know, I’m not too worried about it because being a ghost lets me do my favorite thing…” he smirks, “skate anywhere I want without getting busted.” Willie shuffles around so he can look at Alex better, wiggling a bit like an excited puppy. “I mean, bro, when I’m not skating here or the beach, I’m skating Justin Bieber’s empty pool.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s that?”

Willie snorts and shakes his head. “You seriously have so much to catch up on, bro.” He gently bats Alex’s shoulder. “Dang!”

They both chuckle. Willie wants to stay, wants to sit and talk with Alex, feel the sting of his sharp tongue and his witty sarcasm. But then there’s the painful burning pull of Caleb coming from right under his pectoral. It’s a jolt and, if the magician’s in a bad mood, feels like Willie’s dying all over again. He subtly rubs at his jean leg so he doesn’t clutch his chest. He doesn’t want to freak Alex out, to let him in on the darker side of being a ghost. Especially a ghost trapped under the thumb of another.

“Alright.” Trying to keep Alex from asking more questions, Willie slips off the bench and grabs his board. “I’ll catch you later, hot dog.” He likes the nickname for Alex and he puts his helmet back on as he turns to stake away. 

As he’s skating away, he hears Alex shout, “I really don’t like that nickname.” After a pause, he continues. “That’s how I died!”

Willie shakes his head and continues on. His heart flutters and he smiles, rubbing at his chest. There’s that feeling again, like when he connected with Chloe, and he doesn’t want to lose it this time. Even if it makes it an asshole, he kind of hopes Julie isn’t his unfinished business, that he never finds it so Willie can get to know the blonde for the rest of eternity.

* * *

Willie uses that tug in his chest-- a similar feeling to his connection to Chloe and Kat-- to find Alex wandering a random street in Santa Monica. He’s humming something under his breath and Willie smiles as he walks up behind him.

“Boo,” he shouts and Alex jumps, spinning around with his fists up like he’s ready to fight. The blonde’s flustered expression once he realizes who it is makes Willie laugh. “Dude, you should have seen your face.”

“That… was not funny.”

“It was a little funny.”

Alex glares at him, but he pushes his hair out of his eyes and they’re sparkling a little bit. Willie chuckles.

“Come on, hot dog,” Willie says as he knocks his shoulder against Alex’s, “I wanna show you something.”

“Still don’t like that nickname.” But Alex follows him anyway. Willie leads him a few blocks from where he found Alex to a more deserted yet upper-class part of Hollywood. There’s a museum here that’s closed for installation. The _Santa Monica Museum of Contemporary Art_. 

“You know what? I don’t think this is about the art.” Alex points an accusing finger at him, but he says it with a teasing tone. “I think you just like breaking the rules.” 

“Maybe.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Alex and watches the other boy swallow again. “You should try it sometime.”

Alex sighs, releasing some of the tension that always seems to follow him. “We’re going in there, aren’t we?”

Willie chuckles and grabs Alex’s hand, that same warmth zipping up his spine. Alex shouldn’t feel as warm as he does but it’s the kind of lifer warmth he’s missed. Alex looks down at their hands and smiles at Willie, a lopsided smile with that one slightly crooked tooth, that Willie just wants to stop and call him cute. But he keeps it to himself and pulls Alex inside. They’re still holding hands and he doesn’t want to let go just yet. Just a little longer.

There’s one security guard walking around but, obviously, he can’t see them. He walks past a statue and his eyes slide right over the two boys.

Willie turns to Alex as he drops his skateboard. “And we’ve got the whole place to ourselves.” He whoops as he puts his helmet on, unclipped, and begins to shake around the museum. He focuses on doing some tricks, trying to impress Alex a little bit, and eventually makes his way over to the weird ramp down to where Alex is.

When he finds out that Alex can’t move the bench, he laughs. He remembers being a baby ghost too, struggling to move anything larger than a pen, and Chloe laughing at him until he got so frustrated he threw an apple through her head. Alex looks nervous, twisting his bum bag between his hands, like he feels bad about saying he can’t.

“If you focus on putting all your energy into your hands,” Willie tells Alex as he sets his board against a nearby surface, “you can move anything.”

“Ok.” Alex wiggles his arms, closes his eyes, and bends down to pick up the stone bench. His hands phase right through and he lets out a grunt of effort. It’s cute, but Willie can see the frustration on the blonde’s face, so he only laughs a little bit. “I guess I gotta start doing ghost push-ups.”

Willie sighs. “No. You just gotta focus.”

“Yeah… I’ve always had a hard time focusing.” Alex shakes his head. “I’ve always been a little anxious, and then I died.” Willie nods. “Which did not calm me down.”

“Right.”

“So…”

Alex goes back to fiddling with the edge of his jacket. Willie hasn’t known him long, but the blonde seems to be almost a little embarrassed about opening up. He chuckles. Willie puts his hand on Alex’s back, feels him take a short breath, and puts out his other hand.

“Hey.” He wiggles his fingers and smiles when Alex puts the back of his hand against Willie’s palm. His fingers tingle and Alex lets out a breathy laugh. He puts his hand on the blonde’s wrist and smiles at him again. “We got this.” They lean down together and Willie grounds himself against Alex’s back. He remembers Kat doing the same thing with him when he tried to pick up something big for the first time, but he definitely didn’t feel the same sparks he did then that he does with Alex. “Okay?”

Alex grunts as he holds up the stone bench, looking like he's putting all his effort into not dropping it. “You’ve got, like, ten seconds,” he says through a huff.

Willie helps him move the bench over and they just make it before Alex's hands phase through the stone. He grabs his board and jumps down, doing his trick and making Alex smile at him in a way that makes his dead heart skip a non-existent beat. 

Once he's done, he sets his board down and hops onto the bench, folding one leg under him and leaning against his knee. Alex, on the other hand, stands with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. "You're wired a little tight, huh?" Willie jerks his head and Alex hesitantly comes over to sit down, leaving some space between them. He spreads his knees out, taking up that space. His hands have moved from his pockets to start tapping out a rhythm on his thighs, as if he can't stay still, always moving, always following a beat no one else can hear. "Is that why you started playing drums?" Willie asks as he gestures to what Alex is doing. "To help with your… anxiety?"

"Yeah." Alex stops his tapping, as if to just realize what he's doing, but Willie gives him a small smile and he can't help but continue. "I mean, pretty much. There’s no better way to work out your problems than wailing on some drums, right?"

Willie feels so bad that this beautiful boy had to die for them to meet. He and his friends, dying before their prime. He remembers thinking about seeing a similar band one summer night, but didn't end up going. He found out later that those guys died too. He doesn't know if that's Alex and doesn't want to bring it up.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he realizes that the blonde is staring at him. He chuckles and slaps Alex's chest like a bro. Alex looks down at where Willie just touched him and back up. God, this boy is adorable. 

"Hey, do you know what makes me feel better?" Willie asks as he stands up. "Yelling… in… museums." Well, Willie likes to scream on top of tall buildings, or on stages when there was a play going on until Kat laughed herself off the balcony she was seated on. Willie likes high places, like a cat. But Alex doesn't need to know that. He's wound up tighter than one of his drums, nervously playing with a hole in his jacket. The blonde looks up at him as he stands and yells as loud as he can until he cuts out. 

Alex is looking at him in shock. When Willie wiggles his eyebrows at him, Alex shouts. It sounds weak, like a kitten trying to yowl for the first time. It's cute. But doesn't seem helpful at all. 

Willie snickers. "You gotta stand up." He grabs Alex by the lapels of his jacket, feeling the rough jean material under his fingers. He can feel the frays from age and Alex’s shirt underneath, warm even though they both give off no body heat. Dead bodies are cold, even as ghosts. But Alex feels warm against him.

“No,” Alex grumbles, shaking his head.

But Willie knows what it feels like to be closed off when you first become a ghost. He knows Alex has the mysterious lifer and his ghost bandmates, but one can still be with friends and feel alone. And, as he’s noticed, Alex keeps a lot inside. He has so many questions and worries so much. He must feel like an older brother or a mother hen to his bandmates; he’s the one thinking about all the ghostly things that no one else wants or cares to understand. Drumming might be good for getting all the physical tics to calm, but yelling helps too.

“You gotta put your heart into it, man,” Willie says as he shakes Alex back and forth by his jacket.

“Okay,” the blonde says with a tentative smile.

“Ready?” Willie asks. When Alex nods again, Willie begins to scream. He and Alex go back and forth until Willie can’t help himself and joins Alex, grabbing his jacket as they both sway and Willie pulls him closer. He can feel Alex’s breath on his face, warm even in death, and they stop screaming as if in sync.

He doesn’t let go of the blonde’s jacket as he whispers between them, “Feels good… right?”

Alex nods, still a little shocked. “Yeah. It does.” His Adam’s apple bobs again and his green-blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight coming from the window. He coughs, takes a step back, and Willie lets him go, smoothing out the lapels of the other boy’s jacket, chuckling.

“So, you wanna try your hand at skating?”

Alex shoves his hands back into his pockets and hunches his shoulders, withdrawing into himself a little bit. “Oh, uh, no. I’m not much of a sports guy.” He chuckles. “Surprisingly, that’s more Reggie’s territory.”

“Come on, dude,” Willie walks over to him and knocks their shoulders together. He can see the blush creep up the blonde’s neck and cover his cheeks. “It’ll be fun.”

Alex stumbles over his words for a second before he sighs, wringing his hands around the strap across his chest. “Luke’s always telling me to try new things so, uh, sure.” 

Willie takes off his helmet and plops it on Alex’s head. The blonde huffs and smiles, reaching up to clip it. He pauses, eyes widening when his fingers meet the crack on the side. Willie’s traced it so many times, tries not to remember the pain during those times he tries his hardest to sleep, even though he doesn’t need to. Alex blinks slowly at him before he drops his hand. “Here.” Willie hands Alex his board.

“How can I hold it?” he asks. “It took so much concentration to just lift that bench.”

Willie chuckles. “Ghost board.” When Alex gives him a raised eyebrow, he shrugs. “I don’t get it either.” He gestures to the space in front of them. “Drop the board and hop on.”

Alex gives him an unsure look and just drops down on the board, not just one foot with the other to steady himself, and lands flat on his ass. Willie almost falls over laughing as he watches Alex finally get the idea that he needs to put one of his feet down. 

“Not funny,” Alex grumbles, but he’s smiling and blushing and running a hand through his hair.

“Not bad for a first try.” Willie slaps him on the back. “Try again.” When Alex wobbles on the board, Willie reaches out and gently steadies him with his hands on the other boy’s hips. 

Alex yelps and leans to the side a little bit too, falling into Willie. The two of them go falling through the stone bench they moved together while his board goes flying across and out of sight. Willie’s not worried about his board-- it always comes back to him-- but he is worried when he looks up to find Alex looking down at him with wide eyes.

“Uh, I am… I am… so sorry.” Alex stumbles over his words as he blushes, sitting up and wringing his hands. His head’s phasing through the bench and Willie snickers. Alex scrambles off him and stands up, and Willie slides out from under the bench. His board poofs next to him and he grabs it, rolls one of the wheels with his palm. Alex stands there, silent, looking at anything but Willie.

“Maybe you should stick to drumming,” Willie says with a chuckle. 

He watches Alex fiddle with the zipper on his bum bag, with some of the strings coming from the frays in his jacket. The blonde’s shoulders hunch up as if he’s trying to curl in on himself. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, bro. Skateboarding’s my thing.” He shrugs. “And drumming’s yours.”

“Maybe one day, I’ll get you to try the drums?” It comes out as a question and he brushes his hair back with his fingers. 

“Oh, dude, that’d be awesome.”

“Yeah?” Alex seems to unfurl a little bit, a small smile curling up the side of his mouth. He rocks on his heels and Willie smiles at him.

“Of course.” Willie bobs his head. “Maybe wailing on some drums will be like screaming in museums.”

Alex’s smile gets bigger. “Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds great.”

Willie’s dead heart flutters in his chest at the smile.

* * *

Willie knows he fucked up and he can’t help but beat himself up about it. He wanted to help Alex and his friends but only brought them pain instead. Willie’s always hated Caleb and doesn’t even know why he trusted the older ghost to let the Phantoms leave with the power they have to be seen by lifers without trapping them. Caleb’s given the Phantoms a choice: fade out of existence in the most painful way or join him at the club and play forever in his ghost band.

He watches over Alex and his boys, trying not to be seen and failing at it. The blonde meets his eyes every time and he has to skate or poof away.

There’s one moment, however, when he’s peeking in through the studio window and Alex actually makes eye contact with him. He grabs his board and is about to skate away when Alex poofs in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“What’s your problem?” Alex asks, his voice slightly accusing. “It’s like you’re tracking me down just so you can keep running away.”

Willie swallows and clutches his board until he can almost feel his bones again. “I wish I could explain, man,” he shakes his head, “but I can’t.” 

He goes to put his board down, but Alex comes a little closer. “That’s not good enough.” His voice sounds hard. “I mean, you’ve been acting weird since Caleb’s club.” Willie’s heart sinks to his stomach and he knows it would be throbbing in pain at the sight before him. Alex’s body curls in again, hunches his shoulders, getting ready to protect himself. Willie hates himself for doing this to Alex, but he’s brought the boy and his friends so much pain. He can’t be here. At least Chloe and Kat crossed over, even though they left him, but these guys won’t have a choice. Either cease to exist or join Caleb and be his puppet band forever. Alex chuckles, but it sounds self-deprecating. “You know, I thought we were having fun together.”

Willie looks down sadly and shakes his head, trying not to tear up. He can feel tears sting the corner of his eyes and he swallows down the lump in his throat. “We never should have met.” He doesn’t want to say it, but he chokes the words out. If he hadn’t met Alex, met this amazing boy with a post-mortem crisis and a sharp tongue, then Alex and his bandmates might have been okay. They’d continue to make music forever, or until Julie was too old to continue, and then hopefully cross over and be at peace. Now, they’ll never know peace and it’s all Willie’s fault.

Alex nods, hunching even further. “Wow,” he says in a soft, almost broken voice, “that hurts.”

“Hey, I’m sorry, Alex,” Willie replies. He hates how much he’s hurting the blonde, hates himself for putting the two of them in this position. “I really am. I mean, you’re a great guy.” Something rattles behind him. “I’m sorry.” There’s a painful pulling in his chest and Willie knows Caleb’s looking for him. “I gotta go.” He sees the pain wash over Alex and it hurts him as he poofs away. If only he had the power to turn back time.

* * *

Willie’s hands feel empty without his skateboard, his head a little lighter without the helmet. Caleb took them away from him when he realized he’d gone back to see Alex. Caleb’s been keeping his own tabs on the boys and told Willie he wasn’t needed anymore.

He hears one of the other boys, Reggie, he thinks, say, “Why is this happening to us?” When he comes up the driveway, he can see the boy folded over, hands gripping his knees.

Willie crosses his arms, feeling like he’s holding himself together, as he walks up to them. He feels vulnerable, but Alex and his friends deserve an explanation. “It’s because you guys are in serious trouble.”

All three boys look up at him with wide eyes and Alex takes a step towards him.

“Willie?”

“We need to talk.”

He tells them to meet him where he ran over Alex and poofs away.

* * *

When he appears back on the Hollywood strip, the boys are already waiting for him under a building awning. Luke speaks as soon as he appears. “All these jolts that we’re feeling is because Caleb put his stamp on us?” he sounds slightly angry. Willie doesn’t blame him at all. He was angry too the first time he realized he couldn’t leave California, was always pulled back to Hollywood when he tried.

Willie explains to the three boys about how Caleb feels threatened by the three of them, that it’s because of their connection to Julie that allows them to be seen instead of relying on Caleb like every spirit under his control. They can be seen by lifers without his help.

Alex, still hunched but looking right at Willie, says accusingly, “And you let him do this to us?”

“I can’t stop him. He chokes on the lump in his throat and shakes his head, fisting and unfisting his fingers. Damn, he wishes he had his board. “He _owns_ my soul, alright.” He taps his chest, right over his heart, and shakes his head. “He owns everyone’s soul at that club. If he even knew I was here talking to you, he…” Willie sighs, “he would destroy me.”

Reggie asks a question and Willie answers, telling the three ghosts that, if they don’t join Caleb’s club, they’ll cease to exist at all. No heaven, no hell, no afterlife. Nothing. Just… gone.

“So we have no choice?” Luke asks, sniffling a little bit before he wipes his nose and shakes his head. “We have to say goodbye to Julie, give up everything we’ve built together, and work for Caleb?”

Willie just sighs and swallows against that lump again, looking down at the stars under them so he won’t start crying. He holds out his hands like he’s praying, and he looks at Alex for the first time. "Just, please, here me out.” When no one says anything, he tries to help them as best he can. He tells them, in a rough voice, about another option, another choice. If they just find their unfinished business, figure out what it is and _do it_ , they can cross over. Move on to whatever afterlife they believe in and find peace.

“Why should we listen to a word you say?” Alex asks, a bite in his tone that makes Willie cross his arms against the pain in his chest.

Willie takes a deep breath and stares right at the blonde. He doesn’t look away, even though there’s so much mistrust in his eyes. “Because I care about you, Alex,” he says, voice shaking and vulnerable. He can’t look at Luke or Reggie, can’t see the same pain in their eyes that Alex has.

Alex just looks at him, eyes big and wide and sad. He doesn't say anything, but his mouth opens like he wants to. 

Willie doesn't let him, just keeps talking. "And I hate that I brought you and your friends into this mess." He can't let Alex talk, needs the blonde to know how sorry he is. Whatever Alex and his friends decide to do, Willie wants them to know they have a _choice_. Willie himself was so depressed and lost after Chloe and Kat crossed over that Caleb's promise of a party and getting to skate for the rest of forever. If he'd know that he'd have to give up his soul and be trapped in California, Willie would have chosen to stay away from the Jazz Age ghost.

There's a pulling in his chest, right under his ribcage, and he knows Caleb's looking for him again. It's been happening more often and Willie's scared that one time will be enough. "I, uh, I can’t be away much longer." He looks at the three boys standing in front of him. Reggie looks worried and a little confused; Luke's got his hands shoved into his pocket, fiddling with something inside; Alex is fiddling with the strap of his bum bag, nervously twisting it. "I’m so sorry." He takes a step towards Alex, his hand coming up, before he thinks better of it and steps back, his hand dropping to his side. He can't stay longer; the pull of Caleb's call is getting more painful and strong. "For everything." His eyes sting as he poofs away, feeling fingers wrap around his wrist before they slide off once he fully disappears.

* * *

There's always been a strange pull between Willie and Alex. He doesn't understand it, but it reminds him of the connection he had with Chloe and Kat. But, at the same time, it's different. He remembers Kat telling him that the pull allowing her and Chloe to find each other anywhere felt like a tether, a red string of fate— as cliche as it sounded. It felt like that now with Alex, different from Caleb's painful tugs. 

He poofs in next to the blonde and finds him sitting on top of a couch, across from a stage with a single stool on it. Roadies move around, setting up lights and amps and other equipment. 

Willie's wearing a soft light grey sweater with long arms. He's wrapped them around his fists and clenches the fabric in his hands. It's been a few days since he's actually spoken to Alex and the blonde looks so run down and stressed. Alex won't look at him, just sighs and twirls one of his drumsticks around his fingers. "Is this seat taken?"

Alex looks at him and shrugs. He spins one drumstick around his fingers and sighs heavily. "This whole thing sucks."

Willie shakes his head. He can deny it all he wants, but it's his fault Alex and his friends are in this mess. If he'd just stayed away, if he hadn't taken them to Caleb's club for some 'cool points' with the cute blonde... "Yeah, I messed up."

Alex knocks his arm against Willie and huffs. "No," he shakes his head, "it’s like you said, you know," he shrugs, "you didn’t have a choice." The blonde turns his whole body towards Willie. "I mean, Caleb owns your soul."

Willie doesn't understand why Alex isn't angrier with him. He's been beating himself up about this since they left the club. "No." He shakes his head and inhales sharply. "No, still, I know what he’s capable of. I brought you guys right to him." His eyes sting as he fists his hands into the long fabric of his sweater. It was one of Chloe's, even though it was big on both of them. It's comfortable and it smells like fall, even though ghosts can't really smell like anything. He's always associated her with fall. He shakes his head and looks across the small ocean of space between the couch he's sitting on and the one Willie's sitting on. "When you guys asked me, I should’ve just skated away."

Alex leans into Willie and smiles softly at him, poking him in the thigh with one of his drumsticks. "I would have still followed you." He says it so softly and casually that Willie blushes.

He turns to look at Alex, raising an eyebrow. Alex chuckles lightly. There's a moment of silence between them, but it's no longer filled with mistrust or uncertainty, but it's comfortable. Willie finds himself looking at Alex, trying to memorize what he looks like in the moment. A baseball cap put on backward, a soft-looking hoodie, and his drumsticks. He looks back up and finds Alex looking back at him, eyes sparkling in the dim light of the club.

"Man," Willie says, reaching out to put his hand between himself and Alex, "I would do anything to take back what I did to you."

Alex groans suddenly and Willie watches as a violet, violent jolt goes through him, the electricity crackling right under Alex's chest. It's a visible spark and the blonde presses his hand to the spot. Willie, without thinking, turns to him and reaches out to steady him with a hand hovering over his back while the other goes to cover his own. However, at the last moment, he stops himself. Alex looks up at him. 

Willie sighs. "I am _so_ sorry." He puts his hand on Alex's arm and squeezes gently, feels Alex tap his thigh with a drumstick in response. “I mean, did you guys figure out what your unfinished business is?”

Alex scoffs. “Not like it’s gonna happen.” He looks around while Willie watches him with worry. “We have to play here.” He gestures with his other drumstick to the space around them.

Willie copies his movement and looks around. “The… the Orpheum?” Bands that play here become legendary. It’s been the starting point for so many stars. And to hear that Alex might have been one of them, along with his two best friends. A jumping point for them, had they not died.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “I mean, we were two hours away from getting on _that_ stage the night we died.” He gestures to the stage as one of the roadies walks across it with an instrument. His hand slaps against his thigh and he slouches, hunching again.

“You guys were gonna be legends,” Willie responds softly.

Alex nods softly. “We were.”

* * *

They come up with a plan, the guys and Willie, to help Julie get on that stage. Willie’s part of the plan is to drive the opening act, Downslide, into the desert. They’ll never be able to make it back on time and they won’t even know how they got there. 

He’s walking down the street when he sees the three boys facing away from him, all hunched over. “Hey, are you guys okay?” he asks as he jogs over. 

All of them look like they’re in pain, Alex rubbing his side under his pectoral. “Yeah,” the blonde says, still rubbing the spot. “Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before.” Willie smirks at them and Alex smiles back, but it’s tense and pained. “How’d it go?”

“Well,” Willie says with a smile, “when the opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas.” He spins around and shows off the jacket he stole from the lead singer. “With no chance of getting back in time.” He giggles as Luke reaches out and they do a little hand slap and fist bump while Alex and Reggie watch with smiles on their faces. One step closer to getting Julie and the Phantoms on that stage, opening for Panic! At The Disco.

“And that means there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freakin’ out.” The guitarist sounds way too excited about the prospect.

“Nah.” Willie chuckles. “This is Hollywood, man. I’m sure he’s being _very_ professional.” He snickers at the thought.

Alex steps forward and Willie watches as Luke pulls Reggie off to the side, giving himself and Alex some privacy. As much privacy as they can have in the middle of a crowded Hollywood street… although they are ghosts, so he guesses it doesn’t count. Alex steps up to him and shoves his hands in his pockets, nervous energy making him shift from side to side. Alex licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “I know…” he starts slowly, voice soft, “how much you’re risking.” Willie watches him as he seems to deliberate on what to say next. Alex grabs his hand, warm in his, calluses from drumming rough against Willie’s skin. Alex swings them just a tiny bit, that nervous, anxious energy making him need to move. “Thank you, Willie.”

Willie does the “eyebrow thing” and smiles, using his free hand to knock his elbow gently against Alex’s side. “I told you, I’d do anything for you.”

Alex nods. He pulls his hands away and takes a step back, shifting and shuffling. Putting his hands in his pockets and taking them out again. He looks away from Willie, down at their feet, blinking rapidly for a moment.

Suddenly, Alex lunges forward and wraps his arms around Willie, pulling him in tightly. The last time Willie remembers this much physical contact was with Chloe right before she faded into golden nothingness. Alex presses closer, as if he wants to pull Willie into him and never let her go. Willie buries his face in between Alex’s shoulder and neck, pressing his nose to the skin there. The blonde shouldn’t be as warm as he is, but the heat thrums between them. It’s like the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day, a feeling Willie can hardly remember but longs for anyway. It’s like Alex is the sunlight, bringing back warmth to his life. The warmth he lost once Kat and Chloe passed over. Willie can feel Alex trembling under him, can feel the ghost of tears against the back of his jacket. As if the tension in Alex’s body, the spring, is wound so tight that Willie can feel it.

It’s Alex who pulls away first, slowly pushing Willie away like he doesn’t want to let go but knows he needs to. Alex clears his throat and puts his hands on Willie’s upper arm, trying to regain his composure. Willie can see the red in Alex’s eyes, the sheen of tears, and feels the sting in his own eyes.

“Alright.” Alex shoves his hands into his pockets. “You, uh… You’d better get out of here before Caleb catches you with us.”

“Yeah.” Willie nods, heart hurting. He doesn’t want to leave. This might be the last time he sees Alex. He knows the blonde and his boys will never join Caleb, so either they’ll have to succeed or fade into oblivion. He takes in the boy before him, tries to memorize as much as he can. So that in five, ten, fifty years, he can remember what Alex looked like, whole and happy and _here._ “I’ll see you around, hot dog.” That gets one last chuckle out of Alex and it’s a positive note to leave on. His laugh the last of him Willie ever hears. Before anything can ruin the moment, Willie hops on his board and skates away, poofing once he gets far enough away. He finally lets the tears stream down his cheeks as he whispers, "Goodbye" to nothing and no one.

* * *

California sucks. Willie doesn't hate California, but it seems to be the place he loses people. He lost Chloe and Kat in Santa Monica and now he's going to lose Alex either at the Orpheum or to nothingness.

He wants to go home. Not the place where his parents threw him out, but to New York City, where he felt the most at home. Back to that shitty alleyway with Daniel, making shitty soup and complaining about the smell and Willie's asshole boss. But Caleb's hold over his soul prevents him from leaving.

But fuck Caleb for taking everything from him. His happiness, the one good thing he had going, his new friends. Willie focuses all of his energy on poofing away from California. The pain in his chest burns and he can feel it grip his ribcage, choking him as if he had working lungs. It's so bad that Willie almost gives up, but he can't be here when Alex fades, when that connection they have is broken. Willie shouts and pushes through the pain, his whole body straining, feeling like it's being ripped apart molecule by molecule. It feels almost as painful as dying, but even that memory is starting to fade.

With a final shout, whatever's holding him to California breaks. He shoves through and it feels like glass digging into his skin, creating resistance as he breaks through, trying to keep him tethered to Caleb by the intense amount of pain.

Willie opens his eyes and finds himself standing on top of the Chrysler building for the first time in almost nineteen years. His skin still stings and there are little burns when he looks down, which is weird because ghosts can't get hurt like lifers can.

He can't smell, but he can imagine as he inhales deeply. The smog and acrid scent of the pavement and the exhaust from all cars. There are people going about their business, buskers on the street, and a million different sounds bouncing around the skyscrapers like ping-pong balls.

It settles something inside Willie, as it used to do before his friends faded and Caleb found him at his lowest. The giant steel eagle feels familiar as his own skateboard. He used to come here all the time, dangling his feet off the side, and just watch the people go about their days, if he could see that far down.

Tears stream down his cheeks as Willie thinks of all the things he's lost. His parents, Daniel, Kat and Chloe; now Alex and his bandmates. He doesn't know how his two friends did it, sitting with the loss heavy in their chests for all those years. He's only been a ghost for about 35 years but he doesn't know how he'll keep going. 

It was his fault Chloe and Kat crossed over and now it'll be his fault, whatever happens to Alex and his friends. The lifer Willie knows they all care about will have to learn to live without them, again. Willie knows how hard that is. And it's all Willie's fault.

A breeze stirs up Willie's hair and he sighs, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on top. It smells like fall and swirls around him like a hug.

 _"Be brave,"_ a voice whispers in the wind. It sounds like Chloe, but she's gone. The breeze caresses his face, soft and gentle and kind. He’s never heard of ghosts haunting ghosts, but he can _feel_ Chloe around him. There’s the softer scent of the ocean, a tangy salty scent that reminds Willie of Kat. They’re both gone, but it feels like they’re reaching out to him from the beyond. Encouraging him, pushing him, reassuring him.

The feeling stays with him as the sun begins to set over the city and he gets to watch it wake up. The lights of Time Square are so bright, it’s like a beacon. The Empire State Building shines brightly, this time in rainbow colors and it makes Willie smile. His smile fades, however, when he thinks of how much Alex would love the city: the shows, the people, the bright lights, Pride in June. A chill settles in the air and it’s almost like a phantom feeling.

If Alex and his band are going to succeed, they must be on the stage right about now. He can see the blonde in his mind, a huge smile on his face, staring out at the crowd, wailing away on his drums. Maybe he’d give the crowd a little hair flip, one of the ones that make Willie’s heart flutters. Except, thinking about it, his heart hurts instead.

He should have said goodbye. He should have said something, should have done something. That hug was the warmest he’s ever felt, even before he died. And now it’s gone. Just like Alex.

Willie feels the painful tug, Caleb's call. But, for the first time since the stamp burned its way onto his skin, he ignores it. The pain feels dull, like the shackles have been… not broken, but weakened. The pain’s still there, but Willie can ignore it. He’s not going back to Caleb’s club, just in case the boys are here. He doesn’t want to know what happens to them, wants to keep remembering them as the happy guys who were getting the chance to play the Orpheum for the second time, with an amazing lifer who they adored so much.

He doesn’t want to see them trapped or fading or crossing over. Willie promises himself he’ll go back to California when the sun begins to rise over the city. When the madness is over. And pray to whoever’s listening that Alex and his friends _won’t_ be at the club when he returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you thought.
> 
> This was fun to write and I really hope we get more Willex next season!


	3. A String That Pulled Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Time, curious time_  
>  _Gave me no compasses_  
>  _Gave me no signs_  
>  _Were there clues I didn't see?_  
>  _And isn't it just so pretty to think_  
>  _All along there was some_  
>  _Invisible string_  
>  _Tying you to me?_  
>  \--- Invisible Strings, Taylor Swift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore Alex a little bit more, give him a voice. This is dealing with his emotions after the Orpheum and his need to go find Willie. The anxiety of not knowing if the other boy is okay after helping them potentially cross over so they don't have to be trapped like him.
> 
> So this is from Alex's POV.
> 
> I have this really wack idea that, once they hug Julie and are able to touch her, they each kind of unlock a ghost power? Alex is being able to see/feel the connections between him and those he's closest with (Julie's is more muted because she's a lifer).
> 
> I also wanted to make Willie's tattoo/mark from Caleb different from the boys. They obviously didn't let Caleb steal their soul (thanks, Julie!), but Willie's been under his thumb for 19 years. So his tattoo/mark is different and how I'd imagine it to look if Caleb was successful in stealing a soul. Lifers would have a similar mark as Willie, but it doesn't come into full effect until they die.
> 
> This chapter is for the JatP week, day 1: Write in a favorite character's POV.

Alex can’t stop smiling. His whole body feels stronger than it has before. Even when he was alive. Julie’s hug saved them. _Julie_ saved them.

Reggie’s bouncing up and down on Luke’s couch, singing _Stand Tall_ at the top of his lungs. Luke’s spinning Julie around, beaming because he can touch her now. He pulls her in, spins her out, and dips her. The girl’s laughter rings out in the garage and Alex can’t help but echo her smile and Luke’s love and Reggie’s energy.

It feels like a rebirth, in a sense. A re-death? Alex doesn’t know but he feels revitalized. He feels like he could fly, if that were possible. Ghosts are supposed to be able to float, right? Or is that just another stereotype?

“I-I-I can’t believe it,” Luke says, stuttering over his words as he does when he feels strong emotions. “We just played the Orpheum!” He lets out a whoop and throws a fist in the air, wrapping an arm around Julie and spinning her around too. She giggles against his shoulder and wrinkles her nose, whacking him until he let her go.

“You smell gross,” she mumbles. “All sweaty and…” She just gestures with her hands to all of him. He just smiles at her, eyes sparkling.

“I didn’t even know we could sweat,” Reggie comments as he jumps down from the couch. He lifts his arm and takes a sniff, wrinkling his own nose. “Yep, we definitely can.” His eyes go wide. "Ghost sweat. Like ghostbumps!"

Alex rolls his eyes. He feels gross in a weird way. He knows he’s sweaty and he should probably take a shower, but he’s a ghost. They shouldn’t be able to smell or sweat. Maybe it has something to do with Julie and their magic love hug. He cringes. Maybe he shouldn’t call it that.

“What about the other ghost?” Julie asks and Alex freezes.

“Oh, yeah, Willie.” Reggie bobs his head. “We should probably tell him we’re okay.”

Julie nods. Luke looks at Alex and the blonde can read him like a book. They had been best friends since kindergarten and Luke’s emotions are always written across his face. He’s not good at hiding them. This time, however, Alex wishes he couldn’t read the guitarist as well as he can.

“We wouldn’t even know where to find him,” Luke tells Julie as Alex shoves his hands into his pockets. He’s so glad the suit has them, and they allow him to fiddle with the inseam fabric. He doesn’t have his fanny pack and he wonders where it is, if Caleb still has it. Suddenly, the outfit feels too itchy. He wants out. 

"I'm… I'm gonna go change," Alex says as he tugs at the collar of his suit. It's open and unbuttoned a little bit, but the idea of wearing something Caleb gave them makes his skin crawl like it's covered in bugs. Singing, Jazz Age, cape-wearing bugs. He shudders. 

Julie shoots him a look of concern, but Reggie swoops her back into his arms, still so excited he can touch her now. Luke looks at him over Reggie's shoulder and nods, concern on his face but he doesn't ask. Alex just shrugs in response. He heads up to the loft to change and finds his fanny pack sitting on the bean bag chair. It's like Willie's board, which he explained would always come back to him, like a ghostly boomerang.

He quickly changes, listening to the sounds of his friends dancing below. They're singing an encore of _Stand Tall_ that slowly bleeds into a Julie version of the song Luke and Alex sang to Reggie at the beach to cheer him up. They're so happy and there's a tiny part of him that wants to stay, celebrate, be happy that they're more alive now than they've been before. More solid. But as he shoves his head through his blue shirt, the one that used to be Luke's before they discovered his aversion to sleeves, he thinks about the guy that helped save them. 

Willie's probably back at Caleb's club, just waiting. Or Caleb found out and punished him. 

Or…

Or…

Or… 

"Alex?" There are soft hands on his face and Alex realizes he's having the ghost equivalent of a panic attack. He doesn't need to breathe as a member of the dead club, but he feels like he can't get enough air in his lungs all the same. He blinks away the haze to find Julie kneeling in front of him, her brown eyes filled with concern. She must have climbed up here while he was under. Alex realizes that, although Julie's able to touch him, his whole body's gone see-through. Like the ghostly equivalent of a panic attack is fading in and out of being visibly solid. Weird. "Are you okay?"

He sniffles, taking in a short, shaking breath. Julie puts one of his hands on her neck, against her pulse point, and takes deep, soothing breaths. Alex copies her until he feels himself calm down enough to nod at her and pull his hand away.

"I'm worried about Willie," he tells the singer. Julie nods and moves to sit next to him, allowing him to lean into her. She runs her fingers through his hair. “What if Caleb found out? What if he gets tortured? What if--?”

Julie puts her hand over his, stopping the anxious wringing of his hands. It’s what he does when he can’t fiddle with his drumsticks or pace. “Is it possible for you to find him?” she asks softly. “Like you can always find me or the guys?”

Alex sniffles again. “I… I don’t know. I could try?”

She nods, giving him an encouraging smile. He closes his eyes and thinks about Willie. He and the guys have tested out the weird connection they have with each other, but he’s never tried to find someone outside his boys. When he focuses on Luke and Reggie, he can feel this, like, thread of energy that ties him to them. He can feel them downstairs, interacting with each other, as the strings of energy twist together. It’s weird, but it also brings a sense of calm to Alex. Even Julie’s there, a thinner strand of purple instead of gold like Luke and Reggie’s.

Alex focuses on Willie, thinking about the way the other boy makes him feel. There’s something faint, a silver thread that feels different from those with Luke and Reggie and Julie. Willie feels far away, but he’s still there. The connection feels new, but familiar at the same time. It’s weird to make the connection but it reminds him of the first time he kissed Luke, thirteen and drunk off cheap vodka they’d found in Reggie’s parents’ liquor closet. Warm and new, with something bubbling between them. That’s in the past, but it feels the same with Willie.

“I… I don’t think he’s close by,” Alex’s brows furrow, “but I can feel him.”

Julie beams. “Why don’t you go talk to him? Tell him everything’s okay.” There’s a crash from below the garage that sounds like the ringing of a cymbal and she winces. “I’ve got two ghost idiots to wrangle before they destroy your drums.” There’s another cymbal crash. “Okay, ready? Break.” She sounds like Alex’s old soccer coach from when he was in first grade. He chuckles.

“Thanks, Jules,” he says as he pulls her into a tight hug, “for everything.”

* * *

When Alex follows the feeling and poofs to wherever Willie is, he looks down and gulps. He’s what feels like a thousand feet in the air, standing on the steel structure and, if he wasn’t a ghost, he’d be freaking out right now. Nope, not true, he’s actually freaking out right now. He stands with his back pressed against the wall and gulps, trying not to look down. He doesn’t know if ghosts can actually fly, but he doesn’t want to test that theory.

“Alex?” He looks up to find Willie sitting at the edge of the steel structure, his head resting on a folded knee. Willie’s eyes are wide, his clothes ragged, and there’s a flush to his face that makes it look like he’s been crying. He stands up like he doesn’t care that they’re hundreds of feet above the sidewalk and walks over, hands shoved into his pockets. He hesitates, like he doesn’t want to startle Alex. “What? How?”

“We did it,” Alex says in a rough voice. He presses his back to the stone as Willie finally stops in front of him. They don’t touch and Willie doesn’t reach out, but there’s an itchiness under Alex’s skin, like he _needs_ Willie to just touch him. To make sure this is real.

Like he can hear Alex's thoughts, Willie reaches out and touches his arm. Just a ghost of a touch— Alex can hear Reggie laughing at the joke in his head— that sends tingles up and down his spine. "Did Caleb win?"

Alex shakes his head. "No. Julie saved us." He shrugs. "She just… she hugged us and we were okay."

"I've… I've never heard of that happening before." Willie looks shocked, blinking owlishly at Alex. "What about the jolts?"

The blonde held out hands and made the typical pop motion into awkward jazz hands. "Poof. Gone. She _hugged_ us and told us she loved us and it just… faded. And we all felt stronger." He shakes his head. “Reggie thinks it’s the _power of love_ or whatever, but it’s not that simple. It can’t be that simple.”

"That's so weird, man," Willie says. He sits down and Alex follows him down, sitting close but not too close, crossing his legs. Willie leans his head back against the wall and sighs. “This lifer must be really powerful.” He chuckles. “Or she’s not fully human.”

Alex opens and closes his mouth like a fish. “Julie’s a normal teenager with the pipes of an angel. But she’s, well, she’s just Julie.” Willie chuckles and leans closer, knee resting against Alex’s thigh. The blonde feels his face heat up and he coughs through the awkwardness. “So, uh, what are you doing here? And, um, why are we up so high?”

The blonde watches as Willie’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows nervously. He looks around and runs a hand through his hair, ruffling the strands, tugging at the ends. Alex, in an act of bravery, grabs the other boy’s hand. Willie stills and looks down at their hands as the blonde begins to trace the lines on his palm with a fingernail. He doesn’t look up, just waits for an answer.

“I died here,” Willie admits at last. When Alex’s head shoots up, looking between him and the edge of the steel. “No,” he chuckles, “I didn’t jump.” He sighs and leans his head back, long hair brushing against Alex’s arm. “I told you, I was an idiot and skated in traffic in Time Square.” He gestures to a bright spot close by. “A skater is no match for a truck.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, I didn’t realize I was a ghost at first.” Willie frowns down at his hands and Alex goes to pull away, but the other boy tightens his hold. “I watched my friend die, but he moved right on.”

“How did he…?”

Willie chuckles, but it sounds so broken that Alex just wants to wrap him in a blanket and make him hot cocoa. “How did lots of people die in the 80s? I was helping him get his meds, but they weren’t enough.” A tear slides down his cheek, but he doesn’t wipe it. “I came here. And screamed.”

“So it’s not just screaming in museums?” Alex quips, trying to make a little joke and Willie gives him a small, crooked smile.

“No. I didn’t do that until later.” He shrugs. “I met a girl here. Chloe. She died a long time ago. She helped me realize that being a ghost wasn’t so bad. Her and her girlfriend.”

“When can I meet them?” Alex loves the idea of meeting new ghosts that aren’t maniacal soul-stealing jazz ghosts. And Willie’s voice is full of such fondness that he knows the other boy must care for these girls.

“You can’t… They’re gone.” Willie’s breath rattles in his chest. “Chloe says I was their unfinished business, but I don’t get how and they never had time to tell me.”

Alex wraps his arms around Willie and the other boy leans into him, head tucked under his chin. “I’m so sorry.”

“I met Caleb after that. He got me when I was really low. Not being alone forever sounded amazing at the time. But now… ” Willie squeezes Alex’s hand. “I want to wish I’d never met him, but then I never would have met you.”

“I never wanted to die,” Alex tells him, “but, uh, I got to meet you.” 

Willie knocks their shoulders together, a little smile on his face.

“So… New York City, huh?” Alex looks across the city as fog begins to settle, blanketing the buildings. “It’s no Hollywood, but it’s pretty great.”

“I haven’t been here since my friends crossed over. I couldn’t come back without them. It felt wrong. And then Caleb… He’s got kind of a block on any of the ghosts he owns.”

“What do you mean?”

“We can’t leave California. I think it's another way for him to have control over us. We can't go too far."

"Then how did you get here?"

"I… I don't know what happened." Willie shrugs. "But it was _really_ painful. Like pushing through a glass tunnel. But…” His voice shakes. “I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know what was going to happen to you. I didn’t want to be there.”

Alex scoots over and presses firmly into Willie’s side. “Well, I’m here now. We’re okay.” He drums his fingers against Willie’s leg, as he tends to do with Luke or Reggie when he needs a physical outlet for his anxiety. The skater doesn’t seem to mind, instead slides his leg out a little bit to give Alex his knee to work with as well.

There’s a few moments of silence that aren't really silent because the city’s full of life and the noises of hoking cars and ambulances and other sounds. It’s a little muted up this high, but Alex likes it. The background noise to the slight awkwardness that’s seeped between them.

“So…”

“So…”

Willie chuckles and rests his head against Alex’s shoulder. This feels like the awkward moment between himself and Julie when he asked her about the music program and then didn’t know how to make a normal exit.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. “This is weird. I’m making this weird.”

He stands up and wants to pace, but there’s no space to ‘model strut,’ as Luke calls it. So he shoves his hands into his pockets and tries not to move as much as he’d like to dispel energy.

“Whoa, hold on.” Willie follows him, standing in front of him with his hands out. He smiles crookedly as he puts his hands on Alex’s arms. “Hey, look at me.”

Alex swallows nervously and looks down at Willie, feels soft fingers against his chin. The skater’s only a few inches shorter than him, but Alex feels like he should be looking up at the other boy. Willie gives him another smile, still crooked and slanted, before Willie uses his fingers to gently pull Alex’s mouth down the few inches between them. Alex’s eyes flutter closed.

The kiss feels soft, even though Alex can feel that Willie’s lips are somehow chapped, even as a ghost. Alex lets out a sigh against his mouth and his whole posture relaxes. His hands come out of his pockets and he wraps his arms around Willie’s neck, tanging his fingers in long brown hair. Willie hums and his thumb brushes against Alex’s jaw, his other hand pressed against the base of Alex’s spine.

Something warm explodes in Alex’s chest, the same kind of feeling that happened when he hugged Julie and their tattoos went away. Obviously, hugging Julie and kissing Willie are two wildly different things, but it’s the same type of warmth, the same feeling.

“Alex?” Willie’s shaky voice makes him open his eyes.

Willie’s looking at him with wide eyes, his whole body glowing. Exactly what happened to Alex and the boys when Julie hugged them. The skater winces and holds out his arm. There’s the outline of Caleb’s stamp, but it’s black instead of the purple that he and the boys got. It pulses, like an infection. Little black veins are visible for the first time and both of them gasp. The infection seems to spread up his arm and, since Willie’s wearing a white shirt, they can both see a black knot over his heart.

“Holy shit,” Alex yelps, “what the fuck is that?”

“I… I don’t know.” He rubs his chest, scowling. “What the hell did Caleb do to me?”

“Didn’t you say he took your soul?”

“Yeah, but…” Willie looks like he’s about to panic and Alex knows the feeling too well. So he copies what Willie did before, but this time he holds Willie’s chin and brings the other boy’s mouth up to his, tilting his chin a little bit. He remembers that distraction helped him before-- Luke would always do the same to him back when they were alive and dating and he was spiraling.

Just like before, that warmth is back. It seems to fill him, making him feel light. Willie makes a noise in the back of his throat and rips his lips away. Both of them stare in shock as the skater’s tattoo seems to peel off his skin. The little black veins recede back to Willie’s chest, fading back into the black knot in his chest over his heart. It lifts off, looking like a smokey shadow, traveling up and up until it joins the smog of the city... until there’s nothing left.

Willie turns to look at Alex in shock. “I… I can’t feel Caleb’s pull anymore. It’s just… gone.” He laughs, pulling Alex in for another exuberant kiss and it tastes like freedom. “I don’t know what happened, but I think you just freed me.”

 _True love’s kiss_ , Alex thinks in his head with a blush, that voice sounding strangely like Reggie’s. He scowls at the idea until Willie laughs at him, bumping their foreheads together, his brown eyes sparkling with happiness and mirth.

“I’m, uh, happy to help,” Alex stumbles over his words, feeling his whole face go red.

Willie rubs his thumb against Alex’s cheek, his silver ring cold against his skin. He shouldn’t be able to feel temperate-- Luke once touched a burner just to prove how cool he was to Julie and felt nothing-- but, with Willie, it feels like he’s almost alive again. He can smell the smog in the air and whatever shampoo Willie was using when he died, can feel the chill from the ring and in the air. He likes it… the way that the skater makes him feel like he’s still alive and he hopes he does the same for the other boy.

“Do you… do you want to go back?” Alex asks after a few minutes of silence, Willie leaning against his side, playing with the silver ring Luke gave Alex on their one and only anniversary before they broke up. They’ve been in New York for most of the night and the sun’s just peeking over the horizon. Alex is getting kind of worried that Willie won’t want to go back at all and Alex needs his boys and, well, his Julie.

“Nah,” Willie says, stretching the word out. “Not yet.” He sighs and Alex rests his chin on top of Willie’s head, threading his fingers through the strands at the back of his neck. Willie hums in response, a soft and content noise from the back of his throat. Alex is a little anxious to get back to Julie and the boys, but there’s something soothing about being here with Willie. He’s not super hyped about being up so high, even knowing he can’t die from the fall, but he doesn’t feel that bubble of pure anxiety that’s always inside him, like it settles around Willie.

“Oh.”

“Let’s just watch the sunrise.” Willie pats his thigh. “Then we can go back.”

“Okay.”

The sun begins to rise, casting rays through the fog, and Alex smiles as he settles back against the wall, Willie moving with him. He might not know what happens next for him and the band and Julie. All he knows is that Willie’s free and he and the boys aren’t going to fade into nothingness and they hopefully don’t have to worry about Caleb anymore. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Alex admits. Willie just turns and presses his nose against his neck, hums in agreement.

They sit there in silence, on top of the Chrysler building, as the sun rises over the city that never sleeps. Alex feels content for the first time in his afterlife and he hopes this feeling never goes away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a million years, they finally kissed. Both Alex and Willie just wanted to keep talking, even after I gave them every opportunity to kiss. They finally did after a long time and I love how soft they are.
> 
> Please give us Willex in the next season. A duet, a kiss. Something!

**Author's Note:**

> This was so fun to write and I hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. Your favorite part? The characters?


End file.
